


fireworks

by seaofolives



Series: As Time Goes By and Other Stories [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canon Universe, Developing Relationship, Episode Gladiolus DLC, Episode Ignis Verse 2, Everybody Lives, Gladnis Fanwork Bingo (Final Fantasy XV), M/M, POV Gladiolus Amicitia, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26365603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofolives/pseuds/seaofolives
Summary: Gladio roared out, pitching his sword to the floor, falling to it when he lost his balance. Grabbing his short-cropped hair, he yelled again. A sound, a single sound meant to last for as long as he had breath. He was a failure as a Shield, a failure as a person. As a friend…or as something else.Light flashed in his dark world, and burst out in colors. A celebration of his defeat and everything else he didnʼt deserve. When Gladio looked up and out, he saw the fireworks coloring the skies. Life was moving on and leaving him behind.a love story told in fireworks
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Series: As Time Goes By and Other Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915984
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> me: ok time to post new fic  
> me 1min later: lol what is a summary 
> 
> anyway so some time ago, i think @sheperd (thank you!!) here in ao3 posted the link to a gladnis fanworks bingo thing and i was like, "so cool!! why not??" so i started drawing bingo patterns in it bc that's how you play bingo right?? thereby completely misunderstanding the rules lmao
> 
> but so i ended up with 12 sets of prompts and since there are 12 months in a year, i thought why not match them both up somehow?? and this is the first of a series of mostly disconnected fics i'll be working on as i play the bingo! hope you guys enjoy! o///
> 
> —
> 
> prompts: brotherhood, episode gladio, everybody lives, training together, insomnia  
> month: january

At the last day of the year, Gladio could already see what his next one was looking like. 

“Again!”

_Again_ —that accursed word. His ass had barely hit the mat before the marshal was demanding it and so he had no choice but to get back up his feet. He dragged his damp shirt up to his face to wipe his sweat, frown dirtily into the cotton before he resumed the soldierʼs look and fighting stance with the wooden sword between his hands. Across him, his opponent did the same, except for the frown. 

No, his opponent was always so unfazed, unperturbed—and that was what was getting to him. Gladio hated it that he was letting it get to him but for all his training, the enormity of the ink—the _burden_ he carried on his back, he was still, at the end of everything, human. A weak, soft human whose skin and bones _would_ break with enough bruises and strikes. 

But he was not allowed to be—not him, not Gladiolus Amicitia, who was born to protect the Crown with his weak self. At the other side of the mat, his opponent touched his glasses and shifted his bare feet again into a defensive position. Gladio could tell that they had been sparring for the better half of an hour because of how predictable he was becoming. From across the mat, he could already read every move of his even before he saw it. 

So why couldnʼt he still beat him? Why was he still too fast for him? 

“And—start!” 

Gladio charged at him with his sword raised, both of them matching the same pose, until he cut too soon and sidestepped to his opponentʼs open guard. He danced backwards and directed his dull blade to the other manʼs back. 

The other man jumped back, snapping at his outstretched sword to discourage its advance. Still too slow. 

“Good! Scientia, mind your footwork.” 

Ignis Scientia took a moment to regain his position again before he lunged with a hop and a downward strike. 

They traded blows with each other, Gladio first advancing and then backing up and then regaining the upper hand only to lose it with a well-timed swipe from his sparring mate who pressed back for the advantage. The cracks of their simple blades meeting in angry union filled the empty training room. In slants of afternoon light, they measured the mat by the paces of their feet. 

Gladio rolled away from a cut too close, came up to Ignisʼ and slashed at his ankles. By the time he had cleared the air, Ignis had flipped back and was jumping back to his feet. He huffed out, both in irritation and weariness, then chased him. 

Ignis sent him a kick. Gladio dropped to his knees in time to miss it as he slid to his side and bolstered himself to a jumping spin. He aimed his dull side to Ignisʼ throat. 

Missed him when he kicked his way out of harm. Ignis landed on the flat of his feet, flattened himself to the ground with the bend of his knees as he aimed for Gladioʼs chest with his blunt point _just_ as he had landed—

“ _Enough,_ ” Cor barked, expression grim despite his unmoving presence. “Return to position.” 

_Again_ , he would say. Gladio could almost hear it in his head as he stumbled to his beginning spot. He was a shred of sanity away from keeling over and dying. He and Ignis had been at this for nearly an hour but _he_ had been in _this room_ for nearly an _entire afternoon_. It was cruelty. It was inhumane. 

It was his problem as the next sworn guard in line. “Amicitia,” Cor began. “Take your shirt off.” 

Gladio ripped it from his trainers and pulled it off his head. He left it to fall unceremoniously by his feet as he stood in attention, facing Ignis who was blinking back the sweat from his brows. 

“Scientia,” Cor continued, not moving an inch from his spot beside them. “What do you see?” 

From where he stood, Gladio could see Ignisʼ brows quivering in shock and confusion. This was a trick question, something reserved especially for them as men who would serve the future king. Those green eyes wandered to his toes and up his face again, seeking his unyielding personage for the right answer. His pride and position were at stake here. 

“ _Scientia._ ” Cor snapped again. He never raised his voice, not even when angered, but he knew how to make it cut deeper than his sword. “What do you _see_?” 

“I see Gladiolus Amicitia, Sir,” Ignis spat out. The obvious answer, the safe answer. 

“What do you see?” Cor repeated himself, tone softer. Ignis Scientia had edged himself to the right answer. 

Gladio caught the flicker of movement on Ignisʼ wrist. He was tempted to fiddle with his glasses again. Ignis observed him again, seeking beyond the obvious. 

“ _Scientia—_ ” 

“I see the crest—I see the Shield of the King, Sir!” Ignis could barely hide the glint of triumph in his eyes when he finally caught on. Why else would Cor order Gladio to strip his shirt except to show his newly minted skin, after all? 

“Scientia,” Cor said again. “Take off your glasses and wipe them on your shirt.” Ignis obeyed his instructor in snappy movements. “Put them on again.” He did so, blinking at Gladio. “Now what do you see?” 

“I,” Ignis wavered. He had nearly gotten the right answer but he still could not reach it. “I see the crest of the Shield of the King, Sir.” Might as well try his earlier answer before he changed it. 

“Who bears the crest?” 

“The male line of House Ami—” 

“ _Who bears the crest?_ ” Simple textbook theory wonʼt cut it. 

Ignis cleared his throat, vying for time. “Th, the Shield of the King, Sir!” 

Cor directed his frown to Gladio, who stiffened at his attention though he refused to move his line of sight away from Ignis. “Is this the Shield of the King, Scientia?” 

“Yes, Sir—” 

“ _Is this the Shield of the King, Scientia?_ ” _Yes_ was not the right answer. So—

“N, no, Sir,” Ignis breathed, shoulders softer now that he had found his way around Corʼs labyrinth. 

“Why not?” 

“Because the Shield of the King must never falter and never lose,” Ignis answered dutifully. “For a Shield who cannot stand to protect the King is no Shield at all.” Recited perfectly according to his lessons. Unflinching. 

He couldnʼt even pretend to care. What would he feel like if Gladio questioned his authority as the crown princeʼs adviser in front of the king, he thought? But typical of him, Ignis just…stood there. Watching him as if his words were meaningless. As if he hadnʼt choked him with knives and it was all Gladio could do not to scream or to hurt. He knew how important this life was to him. They were friends. He tightened his fists, clenched his jaws and his lips to bottle the pain. 

Cor nodded, glancing first at the failed Shield and then back at his favorite student. “Good. As expected of you, Scientia.” _As expected?_

Ignis bowed in gratitude. 

“You are dismissed.” Finally, Cor moved himself from his spot to the exit. “You each have two hours left before the prince must prepare for the new yearʼs eve countdown.” His insult done, it was time for him to go. 

He couldnʼt wait for Corʼs footfalls to fade, and even then, Gladio refused to move. 

So Ignis hesitated, his collected appearance just then giving way to his unease for the words heʼd spoken. It was too late, though. It was clear now that he would throw him under the bus if he were forced to choose between a friend and his duty. Gladio couldnʼt blame him, though. Duty was duty and the prince was more important than their lives combined. So he wouldnʼt ask for his pity, either. He was just doing his job. 

“G, Gladio…” 

Ignis took the first step, reconsidered, then resumed his approach, though he moved in a faltering stride. When he finally came to Gladioʼs side, he lifted a hand and let it fall on his shoulder. 

A comfort Gladio rejected, turning away from his friend. 

So Ignis didnʼt force it, and left him to stand there on his own while he went on to stow the sword away, and then to wash up. Like with Cor, Gladio waited until he had gone before he betrayed any sign of movement. 

He dropped his sword to the mat, folded his knees to crouch and put his hands to his face to pour out his silent tears.

—

Later that night, after much of the revelry had passed, Gladio returned to the dark training hall in his Crownsguard uniform. In the previous years, he wouldnʼt have gotten the same opportunity to escape his duties but at 15, the crown prince was growing weary of massive celebrations and had turned in for the night.

Leaving him just enough time to get in a few more strokes before he literally called it a year. He left his top and his undershirt on the bench while he reclaimed his wooden sword and gave it a few spins. 

He went through his forms, as closely to his memory as he could manage. No room for excesses or shortfalls. If precision was where he failed, then precision was what he needed to realign himself with. He had been thinking about it all night, even as they went through the initial ceremony before the dinner. Or as he stalked the crown prince throughout the celebration while he met with guests and dignitaries, keeping to the crowd and the walls. 

He couldnʼt miss the light spilling through the open door, or his visitor, even though he wished he could. They hadnʼt talked at all since those last words during training, and Noctis hadnʼt noticed. This was a busy time for him, too, after all. 

At the corner of his eyes while he rehearsed his footwork, guarding against shadows, he watched Ignis strip down to his undershirt, folding his clothes neatly next to his own. Heʼd just reached the end of his set when his friend had reclaimed his wooden sword and found his place in front of him. 

So Gladio couldnʼt assume ignorance much longer, even though he was hoping to. But to push on with this kind of stubbornness was not only childish, it was idiotic, too. Gladio knew his enemy. Ignis would hound him for days until he did what he wanted to do. 

“I owe you an apology,” Ignis started. 

“I didnʼt ask for it,” Gladio replied. 

“Youʼll get it, anyway,” Ignis persisted. “I am sorry that I said you were not a Shield earlier. I know how much your heritage means to you but I had just lambasted your hard work to your face.” 

“You were supposed to,” Gladio mumbled, resisting the urge to lose that green gaze. “Youʼre a member of the Crownsguard, Ignis. You did what your superior ordered you to.” 

“I did what I had to do as a soldier,” Ignis agreed. “But I did not do what I was supposed to do as a friend. Who cares dearly about his friend.” 

At least that brought a little smirk to Gladioʼs face. “If youʼd defended me, you would have screwed yourself and your job both ways.” 

“I know, which is why I didnʼt,” Ignis said. He raised his sword in his usual stance. “And which is why I am now here, doing what duty prevented me from doing.”  
A rematch? A friendly spar? 

What did it matter? If Gladio wanted to improve himself for the sake of his inheritance, this was a prime opportunity to do it. To regain his honor against the very one that put it on the line. 

He raised his sword, copying Ignisʼ fighting form. “On the count of three,” Ignis said. One-thousand one, one-thousand two, one-thousand three—

They met each other in a crack of wood as their blows bounced against each other. Ignis suffered the worse of it, his frame not quite ideal in handling Gladioʼs power so he pressed his advantage while he could, smacking at his sword until the persistent strikes forced Ignis to break his grip and shift to a new stance. Gladio seized the opening the moment Ignis revealed it. 

Still too slow. Ignis caught his jab by the edge of his blade and hopped back two paces before Gladio could regain his advantage. 

Then he charged through the space, sword poised for an upward cut. Just as Gladio swung his downwards to block, Ignis brought his one to the side of his knees. He was completely off the mark. 

“I always catch you this way,” Ignis explained all of a sudden, maintaining his tight form. Right knee folded, thigh to chest, left leg and arm stretched backwards. “Look at me. There must be something of a weakness—” 

“What the fuck is this, Scientia?” Gladio hissed in surprise, stumbling backwards from his opponent. 

Ignis straightened up. “I am trying to help you defeat me.” 

“So _this_ is your kind of an apology?” Gladio demanded, baring his teeth. “To show me where I lack? To lose on purpose in some, some…some pity match?!” 

“We have always been taught to observe our enemies, to study them before we engage them.” Ignis tossed his sword hand to shrug. “I only wish to assist you on that venture!” 

“No, you donʼt get it, do you, Scientia?” Gladio jabbed his finger at the air as he marched up to those furrowed brows. “The stakes for me are higher. Iʼm going to protect the king with this life. _This life!_ ” He thumped his fist to his chest. “Mind, body, spirit, every part of me will die when the king calls for it!” He stretched out his left hand to the empty space around them. “You think holding my hand is going to prepare me for that purpose?” 

“I am _not_ holding your hand, Gladio,” Ignis snarled. “And dammit, even the king needs help!” 

“I didnʼt ask for your help!” Gladio shouted. “And I donʼt need you treating me like a baby and insulting me—!” 

“You think I am here to insult you, Gladio?” Ignis snapped back, fixing his glasses. “You think you are the only one poisoned by your defeat, by the words my mouth said?” 

“If youʼre scared,” Gladio exhaled, “that this weak body wonʼt be enough to protect Noct, I get it. But that doesnʼt mean you get to question me for it.” 

“I never thought about that!” Ignis countered him, his voice rippling throughout the darkness. “Not once, not today, not in all the days we fought. I never questioned your capacity and authority as the future Shield. I am not the words I said!” 

“Then treat me like one!” Gladio cried. “Please. I donʼt care that I lose, I care that no one in this damn city sees me for what I do!” 

“I saw the pain in your eyes, Gladio,” Ignis told him. “I saw how much you wanted to lash out, I saw it all! Would I be here, otherwise? Do you think I would care this much for you if you are only Lord Amicitiaʼs son and Noctʼs bodyguard to me?!” 

“Ignis,” Gladio flung his arms out, “Iʼm not askinʼ to be anything else!” 

“But you are! You are to me,” Ignis cried. “I care for you dearly, I care for you deeply in here!” He jabbed his finger to his heart. “I see you more than a friend or a brother. You mean more than both to me, Gladio!” What…what was Ignis saying? 

He breathed out, features contorted by something bitter. “I came here because I wanted to help,” Ignis went on. “Because itʼs painful to see you so haunted and hurt, especially knowing that I was the cause of them. But if I misstepped in my urgency to soothe you, if I misjudged you with my selfish eyes, then I apologize sincerely once more.” He dipped his head to Gladio. “Iʼll leave you to your practice. Goodnight, Gladio. And happy new year.” 

“Wait,” Gladio stuttered, stumbling towards his back as he returned his sword and then to his clothes. “Ignis, wait.” _Wait_ , he said. But what for? What did he have to tell Ignis? He had already made it clear that he didnʼt appreciate his company, much less his help. 

But that was before Ignis had told him how he felt about him. How much he said he cared. If he knew about it beforehand, maybe he would have changed his mind. 

Maybe. Maybe he would still have refused but at least he wouldnʼt have acted out like such a dick. 

“Ignis, look…wait…” In any case, _maybes_ wonʼt help him now. Gladio couldnʼt even bring himself to chase after his friend who disappeared behind the door without another look. 

And then, he was back right where he started—alone, with mind unclear. No better and probably even a little worse. 

Gladio roared out, pitching his sword to the floor, falling to it when he lost his balance. Grabbing his short-cropped hair, he yelled again. A sound, a single sound meant to last for as long as he had breath. He was a failure as a Shield, a failure as a person. As a friend…or as something else. 

Light flashed in his dark world, and burst out in colors. A celebration of his defeat and everything else he didnʼt deserve. When Gladio looked up and out, he saw the fireworks coloring the skies. Life was moving on and leaving him behind. 

A sham. This new year, this party. This night, this life. 

Those fireworks. What were they for? What was there to look forward to?

—

At that time, it seemed like the worst thing that could happen to him. Alone on new yearʼs eve, lost and discouraged. He swore to himself, then, that he would never allow himself to feel that way again. So he trained, and pushed himself harder. To overcome himself, fill in his lack.

Ignis never stopped to support him, even when they never spoke about his confession that same night. For five years, he stood by his side. Unwavering, always ready to lend a hand. 

His spear struck down from a spinning kick for what would have been a deadly cut if Gladio hadnʼt brought up his sword on time. Heʼd barely gotten back his footing before Gladio shoved him off with the flat of his blade and came at him with a wide swing, dangerous in the dark but that was a part of the challenge. Ignis flipped back to dodge his retaliation. 

And then he was forced into the defensive again, glaive held horizontally like a wall, when Ignis flung three of his daggers at him. One of them whizzed past his sword and struck straight through Gladioʼs shoulder, hitting the rock wall at the back. That had distracted him for one precious second. 

Come the next, he met with Ignisʼ foot on his shoulder. It caused him to stumble backwards, the tip of his sword hitting and scraping at the hard ground. He dropped it altogether and brought up his shield even before he knew what Ignis was going to do. 

Which was to leap and flip into the air and slam his spear against his shield face with a wide cut. Gladio forced his advantage when he charged at Ignis, as if he would push him all the way to the sea for a watery end.

He counted to the last minute, right as Ignis was about to retaliate before he pulled his attack and stepped sideways, sending Ignis straight to the ground with an unflattering plop. Before that, Gladio could tell by the light of the moon, their lanterns and the position of his hands that he had been about to turn his shield into a springboard. 

He couldnʼt stop himself from chuckling, and panting, when he sauntered to the man, groaning as he got up to his knees, and offered his hand. “Two-two,” he said of their scores. “One last round?” 

Ignis took his time to sit on the rocks and catch his breath, before he slapped his hand onto Gladioʼs and allowed himself to be pulled back up. “Must we decide on a victor so soon?” he gasped, pressing his hand to his chest, one of them braced at his side, closer to the back. “Gods, the air up here is quite thin!” And cold. It whipped at them without direction. 

“Yeah,” Gladio laughed, perhaps a little too tickled than was needed but it really was a funny observation to him. “No kidding. Makes for great practice, donʼt you think?” 

“Well,” Ignis was still panting visibly, squinting out to the folding seas, as if he could see much amidst the darkness, “if you had a pair of lungs as large as yours, I suppose.” 

Gladio guffawed for that. “Take a seat. Iʼll get the tea.” He turned to the little picnic bag they brought along. “Ought to relax ya, make it easier to breathe.” 

“Much obliged, Gladio.” In the meantime, Ignis looked around their training ground and found a good spot to sit on and moongaze. 

Gladio came over to his side with a tall vacuum flask with a handle on the side. He twisted the cap-slash-cup free while Ignis hissed with his arms tight around his chest, pressing himself up to Gladio for the warmth. After he served him his tea, he wrapped his own arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. Ignis sighed in relief, sipping from the cup. 

“Ahhh.” A smile and a grateful note. “Thatʼs the stuff. Here, have a taste.” Ignis offered the steaming cup to him. 

With his other hand, Gladio took it and tilted it carefully to his lips. Just enough for hot liquid to slip through and roll over his tongue with subtle flavors and a little spice. “Interesting,” he mumbled, which wasnʼt to say he didnʼt like it but he wouldnʼt be waking up in the middle of the night to look for it either. “Whatʼs that little spicy thing at the end?” He passed the cup back to Ignis. 

“Spicy?” Ignis took another sip. “Ahh, you must mean the tulsi.” 

“Yeah, that.” Whatever that was. 

“Itʼs a kind of basil.” 

“Thereʼs more than one kind of basil?” Gladio lifted a brow at the concept. 

Ignis smiled into his cup. “In the same way that thereʼs more than one kind of lettuce, I suppose.” He surrendered his tea to Gladio when he reached for it. “Do you reckon Noct might like a taste?” 

“Dunno. Good way to stick something leafy in him, I guess.” Gladio turned leftwards, to the haven burning brightly. “Pretty sure heʼs warm by the fire, though.” 

“I think itʼs hilarious that you seem wistful for the fire when you were the one who pulled us both out here in the first place,” Ignis chuckled. He took the cup to finish it, then poured a fresh round. “You said something about fighting in the dark, in a foreign terrain, where nature is at its peak.” 

“Still valid.” Gladio cocked a brow and a smirk at his friend who handed him the cup. “Really grateful you came out here with me, though. You never turned me down when I wanted a quick spar.” 

“Think nothing of it.” Ignis shook his head. “You know that I am always pleased to accompany you.” He was right, of course—he did. Gladio never forgot. 

Even when Ignis never reminded him, not once in these past five years, Gladio never failed to remember that he cared deeply, and dearly for him. It had started out as guilt, for acting like an ass despite his sincerity. And then it became mutual, when he realized it wasnʼt difficult to care about his best friend in the same way. The guilt came back though it took a different shape—did he truly feel the same way for Ignis or was it just his guilt speaking for him? He never found the answer in the years that passed, until he decided that if he became worthy of his genuine affections, then he might finally arrive to it. 

That…that was one of the reasons why…tomorrow, after he saw his king safely to Cape Caem, he would… 

The flash of gold surprised him. When he turned to look at where Ignis was nudging and pointing him to, that gold in the night sky burst and became pink, scattering outwards until it became a canopy. Two more sparkles of light snuck up in the midst of its spectacle and blossomed in the same way, one green, the other white. And then again in the background, five stars spinning and shrieking before they popped, one after another, at their summit. 

Irisʼ joyful cry reached him from the side. He turned and saw her jumping up and down, waving her arms. Showing the world how strong she truly was, Gladio thought, after the constant blows their family received from the empire. Next to her, Prompto and Noctis got up to hoot and cheer with her. The former had his camera out, and was waving for Noctis and Iris to pose with the fireworks on their back. 

“It must be coming from Lestallum,” Ignis mused. Gladio turned again towards the light show. He wouldnʼt know for sure, of course. He wasnʼt the one whoʼd been carting them around, memorizing routes and distances. “How nice of them to find something to celebrate in these uncertain times.” 

He looked now to his friend, smiling up to the skies, enjoying the distraction while it lasted. “Yeah,” he said, catching the sparkle in those lush green eyes. 

When the show had ended, they called it a night. Gladio packed up and they picked their way back to camp. 

“Hey, Ignis,” Gladio said suddenly, walking side-by-side his friend. He waited until the man had faced him before he continued, “you know…whatever happens tomorrow. Iʼm…really thankful I got to meet you. And become your best friend.” 

Ignisʼ brows quirked, and he smiled at him funnily. “What is all this suddenly?” 

Gladio shook his head. “Just know that youʼre one of the best things that happened to me. And I hope you never forget that.” Or him… 

“Gladio…” Ignis stopped them both. By now the smile had been reversed into a cautious frown. “Of course not…but is something going to happen—” 

“Ignis, Gladio!” 

They both whipped to see their king waving them over, his best friend clawing the air for them. 

“Groufie!!” Prompto cried. 

“Weʼll be there,” Ignis called back, then returned to Gladio. “Gladio, youʼll tell me if thereʼs something wrong, of course?” 

With a look that he hoped was reassuring, Gladio nodded. 

So Ignis satisfied himself with that, the smile coming up on his face again. “Good, Iʼll count on that. Well, shall we, then?” 

Gladio gestured for him to go ahead, and followed closely next to him. These moments they shared throughout the years had always been brief, though each of them burned brightly in his memories until they faded with age. Like a spark that blossomed, and then disappeared into the night. 

That was the thing about fireworks, he thought, seeking their ghosts amidst the moonlight. They were beautiful to behold and promised a lot of wonderful things. But once they were gone, they were gone. 

And that was that.

—

Before they knew it, a whole decade had flashed before their very eyes, though the years spent in darkness, preparing for the return of their king, had seemed arduously slow for those who waited.

But now that they had come through, and found the light at the end of the tunnel, as it were, those ten years felt like they were nothing more than a bad night. Something that could be washed away with a hot cup of coffee, a cold bottle of beer, a warm shower and a soft bed, and then come the next morning, they would be bright and refreshed. Ready to move on with life. 

Gladio certainly felt that way, even though heʼd forgotten how it was to be a creature of the light. But after conquering all those trials, plowing through every obstacle that threatened to stop him and make him doubt himself, this new challenge would be nothing to him, he knew. He felt like a new man—no, _was_ a new man. 

Stronger, faster, smarter and braver—not only to face death, but also his heart. 

They danced again—not for the last time in their lives but for the first time in that empty hall after what felt like a lifetime. Where it used to be full with the angry cracks of wooden blades, now it sang with the clashing of steel and crystals shattering, one after another. 

Light sparkled for every beat they met, his partner kicking up to wide, spinning leaps and slamming his spear onto his sword once, twice, thrice. Gladio had barely gotten a curse through his teeth before a long leg literally swept him off his feet. 

He landed squarely on his back, glaive breaking out into crystals. Ignis whirled himself and his spear and brought it downwards for a piercing blow. Gladio twisted himself to one side to avoid it, grabbed it just as it came up from the floor and smacked his opponent with its length. 

Ignis landed on the ground, while he rolled away from him and brought himself back up to his feet. Nothing graceful about both of them but true survival was always ugly. 

Just one of those things heʼd learned over the years. Gladioʼs shield materialized onto his left hand just as Ignis got to his knee. He swung it back and with a loud grunt slammed it down onto the ground, causing a minor earthquake that sent Ignis up in the air. 

Though not through his deeds—Gladio took a heartbeat to realize he had jumped at the critical time and was now launching three blades at him. He blocked one, dodged the rest as he charged at Ignis. 

That spear reappeared, turning into a pole for extra leverage as Ignis kick-flipped with it before he sent it down onto Gladioʼs left shoulder. 

The weight of it brought Gladio down to his knees, stunning pain rippling outwards to the tips of his fingers. That was sure to leave more than a bruise without proper attendance but it wouldnʼt kill him to wait. He pushed himself up his feet again, slammed his injured arm upwards until both shield and spear shattered upon meeting as Ignis fell and flailed backwards, alarm painted on his wild green eyes. 

A swifter right caught the man before he landed on the floor, and carried him up to his height until those hands had landed on Gladioʼs chest for balance. 

“Three-two,” Gladio declared softly through his breath, and smiled for his hard-fought victory. 

Ignis still appeared stunned for the most part, though the cause of it had changed from his almost-fall to his nearness with Gladio. “I suppose I must surrender, then,” he whispered to Gladioʼs eyes. Surrender to what exactly, no one could say. 

No, of course, Gladio could say. Heʼd gotten wiser over the years. Didnʼt mean he knew what to say, though. _I accept your surrender?_ How stupid, how cheesy. It had to be something more, something deeper, something perfect. Or better, at any rate. Fifteen years, they waited for this moment. Together, they conquered loss, rifts, deaths and doubts and sacrifices, just to get where they were now. At fifteen years older, they both had the scars to speak for it, but not the words.

Gladio parted his lips, just to get anything out. 

“If I have to watch one more second of this melodrama, I am going to puke.” 

Both of them snapped to see the king in his royal garb glaring at them by the door with his fists on his sides, next to the blonde Glaive who stifled his laughter behind his hand. Ignis pushed himself back to his own feet and together, they bowed with their fists on their fronts and mumbled his title. 

Noctis nodded in acceptance of their apology. “Let’s be off now, then. Before someone starts the countdown behind our backs.” 

“Donʼt worry too much, Majesty.” Prompto bounced his hand on his caped back as they turned and made their way to the main complex of the Citadel. “Look, your hairʼs already turning grayer.” 

“It is not!” Noctis bit back, teeth out in warning. “Y, you shouldnʼt lie to your king.” An order given while a self-conscious hand ran through the back of his dark locks. 

“Okay, Your Majesty,” Prompto sang. 

“He looks every bit as respectable as his father,” Ignis started to chuckle, “but he hasnʼt changed one bit.” 

“You can say that again,” Gladio agreed with equal cheer. “Iʼm glad, actually. At least it feels like we didnʼt miss too much of his life.” He faced Ignis and jutted his head towards the door. “Well, shall we?” 

Ignis nodded. “But let me get you a potion for your injuries first.” 

“Sure, rub it in,” Gladio snickered behind his grin. 

They caught up with their two friends just before they stepped inside the building. With his phone out, Prompto whirled and waved Ignis over to ask him to confirm their program for the night. 

Giving Noctis the escape he needed to move himself to Gladioʼs side. “Well? Did you tell ‘im?” he muttered to his Shield. 

“Uhhh…” Gladio scratched his head. “Well, Your Royal Majesty kind of got in the way.” 

“What do you mean I got in the way!” Noctis snapped under his breath. He raised his fingers to pinch the air. “You were both this close to eating each otherʼs faces off! What in the world was that thing I just watched, then?” 

“Look, Majesty, you canʼt just rehearse these things, okay?” 

“You had ten years!” 

“You left us with a laundry list!” 

“Noct, Gladio, are you two fighting back there?” 

Noctis and Gladio raced each other in denying such allegations from Ignis, both of them shaking their heads rapidly. Ignis nodded in approval of their response and turned back to Promptoʼs business. 

They whistled in relief. Then Noctis jabbed his Shield on the side, sending the bigger man to jump and lurch at the sudden strike. “Do it tonight.” 

“‘sat an order?” Gladio rubbed his side. 

“Probably not enough to warrant a capital punishment if you cop out, but letʼs just say yes.” 

Everyone was gathered over the bridge and the square facing the Citadel. The Crown City was as dark as they had first seen it, after ten years of longing for its grandeur. When his time came up, Noctis took the stage and addressed his people by the mic. No hesitations, no flinches, no scowling faces to his retainers. 

“Heʼs certainly come a long way,” Ignis observed quietly to Gladio as he came to stand next to him. 

“Yeah,” Gladio laughed in his throat. “Itʼs a good look on him.” 

“Indeed,” Ignis agreed with a wide smile. “Itʼs much better than what I always dreamed of.” 

“Tonight,” Noctis went on, “we send our thanks to the gods who have brought us here together. They saw us through the darkness to bring us to the light, so through light in darkness, we shall thank them. In the same way, let this be a time for us to celebrate the memories of those we lost, and those who sacrificed themselves to give us this new life. This second chance.” Two words that made Gladio turn to Ignis who looked at him, as well. “We owe it to them to live fully and brightly, to usher in this new chapter of our lives with no regrets. So, with our loved ones in our minds and our hearts, please join me: in ten!”

“Nine!” the crowd echoed. 

“Hey, Ignis,” Gladio said to those watching eyes. 

“Yes, Gladio?” Ignis replied readily. 

“I got somethinʼ to say to you,” Gladio added, bringing the back of his hand against Ignisʼ knuckles. 

“Hm?” Ignis beamed, his little finger hooking itself around Gladioʼs. “What is it?” 

“One!” 

Gladio grinned. “Happy new year, Ignis.” He pulled his hand back, and brought it around Ignisʼ to fold his fingers between the spaces of Ignisʼ long digits. 

The night sky burst open, then, in a myriad of colors and shapes, popping and screaming like newborn lives. A splash of red erupted here and there, interrupted by a blaze of green and then the luster of gold. The happy Lucians hooted and blew their own horns, their own victory cry against the darkness. 

“Happy new year to you, too, Gladio,” Ignis replied with the same joy in his face, squeezing back. 

He brought himself closer to put his head on Gladioʼs shoulder, though he was a little too tall for it. So Gladio brought his arm around the back of Ignisʼ waist instead to pull him in. Still not perfect, but enough for them to at least enjoy the light show while they lasted. That was the thing about these fireworks, after all. They were beautiful to behold and promised a lot of wonderful things. But once they were gone, they were gone. And that was that. 

Until the next time. And then the next one and the ones after that. Again and again, each one a new shot at life. A new chance to try once more. 

Until finally, they could lead to something greater.

**Author's Note:**

> actually i was supposed to post this two nights ago but then gl dffoo just dropped noctis' latest rework and weapons so i was like hype!!!!!!! anyone here play, too?? hmu @seaofolives on tw and tumblr (tho it'll just redirect you to @gladiddy lmao)! 💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼 cn wait for gladio's event hrrrggghhhhhh
> 
> but anyway, thanks for reading!! \o/


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